


no one can do you (the way that I do)

by holtzmanns



Category: RuPaul's Drag Race RPF
Genre: F/F, Lesbian AU, Smut, and we were both girls, is the premise of this, no other genre than. smut, what if we were bartenders....and worked at the same bar....and it was almost closing time
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-30
Updated: 2019-12-30
Packaged: 2021-02-27 14:16:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,910
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22038406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/holtzmanns/pseuds/holtzmanns
Summary: It isn’t a complicated arrangement.They both have needs, after all. More than any girls on the side are able to take care of, no matter how many numbers they slip to patrons of the bar.Brooke and Vanessa work at the same bar, and occasionally find ways to make the dreariness of closing time just a little bit more fun.
Relationships: Brooke Lynn Hytes/Vanessa Vanjie Mateo
Comments: 11
Kudos: 54





	no one can do you (the way that I do)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [writworm42](https://archiveofourown.org/users/writworm42/gifts).



> You can blame Writ for this one. Writing this was a shit ton of fun, and I hope it's just as enjoyable to read. Thank you Writ (who else?) for betaing and being great <3
> 
> Title from Cockiness by Rihanna.

It isn’t a complicated arrangement. 

They both have needs, after all. More than any girls on the side are able to take care of, no matter how many numbers they slip to patrons of the bar. 

Brooke’s neck is aching while she wipes down the counters, a crick that just won’t go away as her and Vanessa set about cleaning up early, so that they can leave faster. It’s approaching two a.m., and the bar is dead. Maybe it’s the post holiday season hangover, where people prefer to stay at home with their shitty presents and stomachs too full of turkey. But there hasn’t been anyone in over an hour, and she’s getting restless. The cleaning is only a distraction for so long, from the way her mind is whizzing and how the stiffness in her bones never seems to disappear. 

Vanessa drops a stack of glasses over the area Brooke’s just wiped down, grinning when Brooke lets out a grunt. She lifts herself over the bar counter to the other side, Brooke’s side, so that she can wash them out.

“Gonna have to wipe that down again, thanks for that.” So maybe Brooke’s scowling more than usual. The slight irritation, the itchiness under her skin on days like this, where all the zooming thoughts in her brain turn into pent up energy, usually get taken out on whoever is in front of her.

Not that Vanessa seems to mind from the way she turns around, winks from her place in front of the sink. “Sorry, mama. Good thing you so good with that dish rag.”

Brooke rolls her eyes but wipes down the counter again nonetheless, the rings from condensation from the glasses disappearing underneath the cloth. She doesn’t know why she’s so restless today, why the repetitive task of closing up the bar isn’t as relaxing to her brain as it usually is.

“Are you gonna tally up the register, or should I?” Brooke throws the question over her shoulder when Vanessa shuts the faucet off, but is met with silence. She’s about to grumble, ask it again when she feels a warmth behind her, fingers that tug on her belt loops and turn her around.

Vanessa’s eyes are lit up in the way that they always are when she’s feeling a little mischievous. Brooke sees the look often - when Vanessa wants to mess with her friends who come visit when she’s on shift, or when she’s on the phone with their boss. When she wants to proposition Brooke for some action behind the counter, no strings attached, action that usually makes them both feel a bit better.

Today, it seems to be the latter. 

“You mighty shifty today.” Vanessa’s side is pressing against Brooke’s hip bone, her knee inching its way in between Brooke’s thigh. 

Being boxed in by Vanessa shouldn’t be possible, given their height difference, but the feeling is there nonetheless. The light scent of Vanessa’s perfume lingers in the air above them, a look on her face that Brooke can’t pull away from if she tried.

“So?” Sure, they’ve cleaned up the bar, but it’s technically still open, at least for fifteen more minutes. Before they’re allowed to trudge home in the ankle deep snow. Brooke can’t help the way her gaze flits to the door, waiting for anyone to walk by.

“All the nervous energy, you like a spooked horse.” Vanessa says it with a grin on her face and Brooke can’t help but snort.

“Aren’t you a poet?”

“Shut up.” Vanessa tugs on her belt loop a second time, lifts Brooke’s hips slightly away from the counter. “Now do you wanna fix that problem, or...? I mean, I’m here. And happen to be wearing those panties that you like so much, it’s a shame you may not even want to see them today-” 

Brooke flips their positions around before Vanessa gets a chance to finish her teasing sentence, reveling in the slight _oh_ that Vanessa lets out when her lower back hits the counter. Her eyes are wider now, but expectant, excited. As if she knows exactly what is coming next.

They both do.

Sometimes Brooke wonders, when she sees Vanessa mixing drinks and joking around with customers on the other side of the bar, what it would be like. If they were actually together, anything more than a casual fuck every now and then. But then she sees the way Vanessa’s face lights up when she laughs, the soft look that her eyes get every now and then. 

She doesn’t want to ruin it. So, this is better. 

Brooke still gets to pull reactions out of Vanessa. Like when she tilts Vanessa’s face up with two fingers underneath her chin, sees the way her eyes widen and hears her breath hitch. A breath Brooke captures when she leans down and covers Vanessa’s lips in a kiss, leaving a gentle bite on her bottom lip that she soothes over with her tongue. 

It doesn’t take Vanessa long to become putty in Brooke’s hands, never does. Vanessa’s grip laxes, her body pliant under Brooke’s touch when Brooke cups her face with both hands, puts a knee in between her legs. Lets Vanessa grind down on it for a second, just a second, before pulling back. 

“You tryna get yourself off and ruin those panties before I get to see ‘em?” Brooke punctuates the sentence with a nip at Vanessa’s ear, a kiss at her jaw and the way Vanessa gasps and squirms is something that Brooke files away for the nights that she’s alone in bed, or in the shower, when her hand inevitably travels between her legs. 

Memories to relive, after all. 

“No, I-” Vanessa’s reply cuts off in a moan when Brooke palms her tits, just the way she knows that Vanessa likes it. 

Months and months of hooking up have lead Brooke to understand Vanessa’s body, finding out exactly what makes her tick, which spots make her gasp and her breath hitch. Brooke loves mapping Vanessa out even though she already knows her body like the back of her hand, and could never forget it even if she wanted to. 

Brooke traces her thumb over Vanessa’s nipple, feeling the way it hardens through her bra and t-shirt. She loves the way Vanessa’s tit fits in her hand, the way Vanessa’s small frame is easy to wrap her arms around, to overpower. Vanessa fits up against her like they’re two gears inside of a clock, ticking down to the moment they’ll have to tug their clothes back on, bid goodbye for the night, only to do it yet again on another late-night shift. 

Brooke doesn’t want it to change, ever.

Brooke drags her other hand down Vanessa’s spine, down to the small of her back, and pulls her flush against her. She can’t stop herself, really, from grinding her hips up against Vanessa’s, feeling the way the buttons on both of their jeans clink up against each other. It’s too hot, too restricting, and Brooke wants to strip them both-

But they’re also behind the counter at a bar with floor to ceiling glass windows. 

So the clothes, as usual, have to stay on. 

Mostly. 

Vanessa lets out a soft whine under her breath, one that, when coupled with the slight pout of her lips and the quick rise and fall of her chest, makes Brooke understand exactly what’s going on. 

“What’s wrong, baby?” Brooke knows that the corner of her own lip is curling up into a bit of a smirk, and she can’t help it, really, when Vanessa is so easy. When undoing her is as simple as falling asleep, when it’s something she wishes she could do forever.

“You wanna tell me?” Brooke traces her hand underneath Vanessa’s shirt, couples it with kisses along her neck, knowing that Vanessa is damn well having trouble forming words, the way she always does.

The way to get Vanessa to be truly quiet is something that only Brooke can do, getting her all worked up against the counter. Something she loves to employ after a particularly noisy shift. 

“I-” Vanessa’s eyes flutter when Brooke spans her fingers along her side, dragging them down, feeling the shudder of her body beneath them. “You know.”

“Do I, though?” Brooke unbuttons Vanessa’s jeans when her hips get particularly twitchy, pushing up against Brooke on their own volition, as if Vanessa isn’t in control of any part of her body anymore. 

She knows that Vanessa is short enough that it won't show over the counter, never does, so she tugs down on her belt loops, letting the jeans bunch above Vanessa’s knees. The pale blue lace that is revealed against Vanessa’s skin is exquisite, a sight that makes Brooke’s mouth water more than she wants to admit. 

Brooke traces her fingers along Vanessa’s waistband, slowing her pace down just to see the way that it makes Vanessa twitch, whine. Vanessa’s hands are resting against the counter, and Brooke would hedge a bet that they’re the only reason she’s still on her feet and standing. Vanessa tries to squeeze her legs together but Brooke pushes on them gently, keeping them apart. 

“Hey, none of that.” The words are murmured by Vanessa’s ear, breath light and hot on her skin, a contrast from the way she shivers. 

Brooke moves her fingers from Vanessa’s waistband to the fabric along the insides of Vanessa’s thigh, keeping her touch light, so close and yet so far from where Vanessa wants it. Brooke could easily just tug her panties down, fuck her fast but...she likes this part. The journey, the delicate balance that exists between them, that Vanessa lets her keep. Because Vanessa enjoys it just as much. 

“C’mon, B.” The slight tug in Vanessa’s voice, the slight pout on her lips almost makes Brooke laugh. 

“So whiny. If you want it, you have to be patient, yeah? Or,” Brooke takes an incremental step back for a second, pulling away and Vanessa gasps, “we don’t have to do this. I can leave you to take care of yourself the way you want to.”

“No, no, I’ll be good, I’ll be patient.” Vanessa reaches out for her, and Brooke grabs her hands, presses them back up against the counter where they should be. 

“Good.”

It’s interesting, the way doing this to Vanessa never fails at calming Brooke down, wiping her thoughts clean. It’s almost as if her energy shifts over to Vanessa, as she gets worked up and restless and almost as if she needs Brooke up against her to survive.

Brooke loves it.

Vanessa spreads her legs apart a little bit more - enough that Brooke notices, sees the unspoken invitation. She doesn’t go back to tracing along Vanessa’s panties; instead, she cups her right through the fabric. The wetness she can already feel soaking through is enough to make arousal curl in Brooke’s own stomach, as is the little gasp that Vanessa lets out at the contact. 

Vanessa knows better than to grind down onto Brooke’s hand, something that Brooke can see from her face and the way she’s biting her own lip. But Brooke doesn’t leave Vanessa to suffer for too long, moving her palm slightly against the fabric, watching her face and the way her lips form an ‘o’. 

“So beautiful, baby, all in this lace. Looks so good under your leather jacket, you know that? All soft underneath that exterior.” Brooke lets the words fall from her lips like velvet, punctuates them with kisses along Vanessa’s collarbone, then down her sternum. 

Vanessa doesn’t respond save for a breathless moan and a twitch of her hips. It’s the perfect opportunity for Brooke to slowly crouch down, get on her knees, dragging her free hand down Vanessa’s sides, down her thighs. Sure, the stickiness of the bar floor is catching on Brooke’s knees while her boots are pinching at her toes, but it’s worth it, worth every second of seeing Vanessa’s eyes widen, her grip trembling on the counter. 

“I almost don’t want to take them off.” Brooke whispers the words up close against Vanessa’s cunt, her ruined panties a flimsy barrier between them. 

Vanessa’s about to protest when Brooke drags one finger along the fabric over her already swollen clit, and the way that Vanessa gasps makes Brooke want to keep it going forever.

“Push your legs apart a little bit more, baby, there.” Vanessa’s jeans are still bunched up by her knees, but it doesn’t matter. Brooke doesn’t need much space to work with.

Brooke traces her finger along Vanessa’s swollen lips one, two times before pushing the fabric to one side, revealing her cunt that’s already dripping and making Brooke’s heart beat a little bit faster, knowing that she’s the one behind it. She places a light kiss on Vanessa’s inner thigh before pulling back, looking up at her.

“Mouth or fingers?”

Except that Vanessa doesn’t even seem to hear her, from the way her eyes are hooded, the way her chest is rising and falling. The way her hips unconsciously push towards Brooke when Brooke pulls back.

“Both it is, then.”

Brooke doesn’t care about the makeup on her face, the hair that she’s tucked behind her ears when she busies herself between Vanessa’s legs. When the light, teasing strokes make Vanessa whine, want more, twitch up against Brooke when her tongue drags over everywhere except where Vanessa wants it to. 

Brooke pushes her tongue into her entrance just slightly, just enough to make Vanessa whimper for more. She pulls back, looking up at Vanessa, who’s about to protest, brow furrowed, and drags her tongue up and along her own fingers. 

“You ready, baby?” 

Vanessa’s eyes darken when she nods and whines out a short _please_ , all protests gone from her lips when Brooke teases her fingers at Vanessa’s entrance, easing one in and curling it up just so. 

“So polite now.”

Sure, Brooke likes it when girls take her apart, when they make her cry out their names. When she’s a mess on the bed because of what someone else has done to her. But Brooke also likes being the one to make it happen, especially if it’s Vanessa. Seeing Vanessa’s eyes flutter when Brooke curls her finger up, feeling the way she’s squeezing around her. The way she gasps when Brooke adds another finger, speeds up, her knuckles white as they grip the edge of the counter. 

Brooke wants to take Vanessa apart forever.

She keeps up the motions of her fingers, the sounds from Vanessa’s cunt echoing around the empty bar, reminders of what they’re doing in front of any passerby that could walk past, before bringing her tongue back to circle around her clit, so in need of attention. The noise that Vanessa lets out when Brooke makes tight circles with her tongue, as fast as the movements of her fingers, imprints itself on Brooke’s brain. 

“I-I- _fuck_ ,” Vanessa’s gasping, tightening around her fingers and Brooke doesn’t slow down, the words encouraging her to keep going because Vanessa’s the most beautiful when she’s like this. All disinhibited and unable to stop her reactions and feeling too much, though still cautious about burying her fingers in Brooke’s hair. 

Vanessa’s the perfect person to play with, teasing her enough but also knowing what buttons not to push. Letting Brooke be in charge, letting her dictate the pace of their nights like this.

“Please, Brooke, please-”

Vanessa shudders around her, her hips twitching against the counter and Brooke knows that she’s so close, teetering over the edge, her muscles pulled taut and ready to snap. So Brooke picks up her speed, twisting her wrist just a little, just the way Vanessa likes it, until the other woman lets out a scream so loud that Brooke’s sure the neighbouring bars have heard it.

“Shit, I’m…”

Vanessa’s breathless, sucking in air, her legs shaking. Brooke’s fingers are still inside her, her tongue still against her clit, and she licks up slowly, very slowly, but enough that it makes Vanessa mewl, tremble some more. 

It’s a pity, really, when Brooke has to pull back, wipe the wetness of her fingers on the insides of Vanessa’s thighs. She stands up and towers over Vanessa again, and Vanessa’s looking up at her out of breath still, the slightly parted lips betraying the way she’s unable to form words anymore.

Brooke tilts Vanessa’s chin up again, turns her jaw slightly to the side. The marks left there are light, not too bad, but she knows Vanessa’s going to be cursing her out tomorrow morning when she looks in the mirror. She has to hold back a smirk at the thought.

“Shit, bitch, you outdid yourself.” Vanessa lets out a small laugh as she says it, almost incredulous, as if Brooke doesn’t reduce her to an incoherent mess every time. 

Not that Brooke minds, because the messy haired, smudged makeup, post sex version of Vanessa is a sight to behold, one that she loves creating.

Brooke fixes Vanessa’s panties, tugs her pants back up and re-fastens their buttons. Puts her back together and runs her fingers through the tangles in her hair. “There. You look almost presentable.”

“Oh, fuck you.” Vanessa snorts, trailing her fingers up inside Brooke’s shirt, along the sides of her ribs. “My turn to repay the favour.”

Just how Brooke likes it.

“Get to it, then.” 

**Author's Note:**

> find me at @plastiquetiaras on tumblr!


End file.
